


Proposal

by hakura0



Series: Superbatfam [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-09-01
Packaged: 2018-08-12 04:59:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7921453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hakura0/pseuds/hakura0
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clark is given the final push that he needs to final propose to Bruce.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ultimatum

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place probably over a decade after 'Taking out the Trash'.

It's Damian who finally acts as the impetus for a real proposal. Drawn up to as much of a height as he can manage, expression scrupulous, "Are you planning on marrying Father or not? The option has been available for two years now."

Clark almost chokes, coughs instead, a fist in front of his mouth as he tries to clear his throat.

"He could ask," Clark offers. Damian makes a scoffing noise as counter that makes Clark grin. "I know, I know. ...the answer is yes."

"Then do it. I won't have you leave him waiting another ten years." There was threat in Damian's tone, and Clark wasn't sure he wanted to know what he was thinking of. He was Bruce's son, after all.

"Are you sure that's okay? I wanted to make sure that you wouldn't feel like I'm trying to take him away from you. You just-"

"That's ridiculous. You've known Father longer than I've been alive." Damian was looking at him almost suspiciously. "Stop making excuses. What do you need?"

"Your blessing." Clark tells him, and Damian looks away, but not fast enough for color to deepen on his cheeks. 

"...given." Damian tells him, and raises a finger to point in the general direction of the room Bruce was in upstairs. "Go. Now."

"A week-" Clark counter-offered, "How about you give me a week?" Damian made the mistake of turning and looking at him, and sighed.

"Romance. Fine. I expected this. You have one week, Man of Steel. Or -" Damian pulled a recording device from his pocket, pressing a small button on the side. "- my father receives your proposal via recording."

Clark crouched down to get on his level. "I promise. By the end of the week. Come here."

Damian looked for a moment like he might refuse, then all but threw his arms around Clark's neck, and Clark returned the hug.

He couldn't quite catch all of what was muttered into his shoulder but he caught, 'Thank you' and what could have been 'Mother needs to move on'.


	2. Permissions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clark, biding time, begins to ask Bruce's 'Family' for permission to take the next step.

Cassandra looks surprised he even asked, stretching on one of the manor's balconies.

"I want your blessing." Clark tells her, "You're his daughter."

He knows that she can read him, can tell that he's telling the truth. 

She looks thoughtful for a long moment before she climbs to her feet in an easy movement, standing before him, expression severe.

He holds his breath -

She smiles up at him. "...okay." He smiles back, and she gives him a thumbs up.

He keeps working his way backwards.

Tim smiles when he asks, at some hidden joke. "He needs you. Don't let him counter-argue you out of it - by which I mean, you have my blessing."

"Thank you." Clark tells him, and the sudden hug surprises Tim. "I won't."

"Good luck with Jason." Tim tells Clark, once they've let go. If it comes to it, he tells himself, he can always alter Kon's records.

Rain pours down outside while Clark listens, to the sound of videogames, his attention only half on the screen.

Jason's head is in Dick's lap, his eyes focused on the screen, fingers moving easily on the controller. Dick is running his fingers through his white-streaked hair.

"I need to talk to you a minute." Clark tells him and Jason pauses, craning his neck to look at him. "Talk."

Clark's eyes meet Dick's for a minute, and he watches as Dick shrugs. 

"Alright. ...I want your blessing to propose to Bruce. Both of you." Clark tells them, less smoothly for all the practice that he's had now. It's strange, really. 

Jason is looking at him, and he can't quite read the expression. For half a moment, he wishes Cassandra were there.

"I thought the two of you were going for a common law." Dick tells Clark, a smile curling onto his lips a moment later. "About time. I'll have to check the betting pool."

"There isn't one." Clark argues, and Dick just smiles and asks him if he's considered a fall wedding.

"Jason?" Clark asks, and Jason looks away, briefly. Dick taps him lightly on the head. "...I want it to be official. All of it - all of you."

Jason closes his eyes, takes in a deep shuddery breath and puts on a grin when he opens his eyes, glancing up at Dick for just a moment.

"Make it summer," Jason says, the slightest shake in just that word before he forces his voice into stability. "and you have my blessing."

Clark laughs, grins. "I'll try. How's that?" Jason bobs his head in approval.

Clark grabs both of them off of the couch to hug.


	3. fin.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the week draws to a close Clark rounds out his trip and finally takes the leap.

The next stop is short and somber, on his way to the manor. He knows the stone well by now, the little cemetery with Bruce's parents and the other grave that is no more.

"...I just wanted to let you know." Clark finishes, voice soft in the dimming light.

Alfred is in the kitchen when he gets there and Clark thinks that maybe there is something on his face that gives away what he is thinking.

"I-" Clark starts to say, stops, starts over. "I'd like your blessing to marry your son."

It was meant to be longer than that, but Alfred looks, he thinks, dangerously close to crying already.

"Of course. You've had that for a while now, you know..."

He hugs Alfred, at a loss of what else to say. Their eyes are both damp after, but Clark laughs, and it all still feels somewhat unreal.

"I'd almost given up." Alfred admits, straightening his sleeves. He shuts down Clark's sheepish attempt at apology with a waved hand. "Oh, it wasn't because of you."

The week goes by, and Clark strains to find the right way. The right place. He thinks of a million picturesque opportunities, methods.

Damian's expression is almost doubtful, almost accusational at breakfast the last day, like he expects that he won't actually do this.

Clark nods reassurance in his direction.

He takes Bruce out of the office for a walking lunch. The city is almost quiet for Gotham, and they don't talk.

Bruce almost misses the view down an alley as Clark bends to tie his shoe.

"Marry me?" reads the dumpster asks in almost-fresh white chalk. Bruce closes his eyes, but the words are still there when he opens them. He fights the urge to turn around, and then there is movement behind him and a hand on his shoulder.

"Graffiti, Superman?" Bruce asks Clark, barely a whisper, still avoiding his eyes, the sudden dry feeling in his mouth. 

"Chalk." Clark tells him, and he can almost hear him smile, can almost feel his anxiety. "It'll wash off in the rain."

Bruce laughs, almost surprising himself.

"I saw you smile.” The admission comes softly from Clark, and all Bruce can see for a moment is Superman flying through the Gotham skies with a dumpster full of Arkham's finest.

"You looked ridiculous.” Bruce tells him, his voice tight. "I could already see the morning's papers."

"But you smiled. I wasn't sure you could. Sometimes you can't. It's been a long time since that night. I know that we've had rough spots, but... I love you. I've learned better, and I won't let you chase me off again. I want forever; I want for better or worse our family, and especially you."

Bruce turned to look at him almost against his will, definitely against his better judgement. Somewhere in Clark's blue eyes, he was caught.

"Bruce Wayne, will you marry me?"

"Yes," Bruce told him simply. It was, he thought, the only word his voice would make.

They kiss and Gotham does not notice - it doesn't stop them. On the walk back they are hand in hand and Bruce peers, on a hunch, down an alley. White words stare back at him from dark green.

"How many did you get?" Bruce asks, a smile teasing at his lips, a lightness somewhere inside of him. 

"All of them." Clark admits his smile more wolf than sheep. "Plus the tops. Just in case we didn't make it out until tonight."

Bruce laughs, sharp and bright. "Yes," he answers Clark again as he leans over and kisses him, more confidence in his voice. "I think it might be overdue."


End file.
